Not Just a Nightmare
by so-its-now-or-never-isn't-it
Summary: "The battles may be over, but as long as the affected remained, this place was a war-zone." Harry witnesses an important moment of healing between Ron and Hermione. Post-war summer at the Burrow.


**Author's Note: My first fanfic! Everything goes to JKR. Thanks for reading/favoriting/reviewing x**

**8/16/12 - A few edits for clarity based on reader suggestions. Thank you RaucousLaughter!  
**

The screaming woke him like cold water, flooding from under the crack in his door and startling him awake.

He was sitting straight up in bed with his feet already hanging off the sides. He put on the glasses he had fumbled for the moment he woke. He felt himself relax only slightly once he'd looked around. _The Burrow_, he thought to himself, at the sight of the open window in the guest room. Molly had insisted he'd take it, to have a private space for himself after all that's happened. The window frame showed a view of the surrounding fields. _Home_.

Nearby screaming startled him again, though he didn't know why it made him jump a second time. It was a common thing to hear in the household. The battles may be over, but as long as the affected remained, this place was a war-zone.

Soon, the screams dissolved into cries, and Harry knew who they belonged to. Sadly, he had known the moment he'd heard them. He was all too familiar with the sound.

He rose from bed, walking quietly to his door, though he knew very well that the whole house must be awake. With three months since the end, it was becoming a matter of who would acknowledge the lasting terror and who would try to pretend it did not exist. Harry knew, as did the others, that pretending wouldn't make it go away, but at least it could numb the pain for a while. When Harry opened his door into the empty hallway, he didn't judge the others for not coming. Pretending was easier on the soul, but his soul was so guilt-ridden, especially by these particular screams, that pretending was not an option for Harry. It never had been.

Just as he was about to step over the threshold of his bedroom, a figure whipped past him. It came flying off the stairs and past Harry. For a moment, Harry didn't think the person-he knew in his heart, she-had seen him standing there, in the doorway. But for a short second, she turned to him, looking desperate and speaking without words. She was in pain, in pain from hearing him this way. Without another glance, Hermione burst into Ron's bedroom, and from across the hall, Harry couldn't help but see and hear some of the scene unfolding.

Ron's head was between his knees. The screaming wouldn't end. As soon as she arrived by his bedside and placed a single hand on his leg, she was pulled off her feet and into his lap by his shaking arms. He clutched her in every way he could; with one arm at the back of her shoulders and the other at her waist, he pressed every curve of her body to his chest and sobbed. Her knees were slightly bent at his hips, and she pressed back into him, her arms wrapped tightly around his neck and her face buried in his shoulder. He moved one hand to hold the back of her head and began rocking the both of them together, crushing her figure against him and seizing her up in his arms. Harry thought to look away, but he couldn't. Ron's whimpers began to trail off.

"Hermione...Hermione..."

"It's alright," she said, in a voice thick in tears. "It's okay, Ron. We're in your room. We're in your bed at The Burrow."

Neither spoke while Ron quieted himself and regained perception of reality. He stopped rocking and became still, though they both clutched each other closer than ever.

If his screams hadn't woken the house, his shouting words sure would.

"THEY TOOK YOU!"

Hermione flinched as he shouted. "Ron, it's okay! Please," she pleaded tearfully, trying to pull back to see more of his face, but he only held her tighter. "Please, look at me-!"

He trembled with fury. "She, that bitch, she took you from me and..." His face contorted in pain. "Then, when it was nearly over, I...I saw your body on the floor, and I didn't know..."

Hermione cried quietly with him.

"SHE COULD'VE KILLED YOU!" he shouted. "And I hadn't told you...how much I loved you, and to see you on that floor...and I thought you were just getting on your way to forgiving me-!"

She held both sides of his face in her hands. Hermione cried harder than him now. "I forgave you the moment you came back!"

Ron looked down, closing his eyelids to squeeze out any remaining tears. "I didn't know. And I hadn't deserved it."

Hermione's hands remained on the sides of his face, and she spoke softly. "You, Ron Weasley, deserve the world."

With his fingers curled around her wrists, they simply watched each other, taking shuddering breaths as their breathing returned to normal. He dropped his forehead to press against hers.

"I can't do it anymore," he said.

"What?"

"The separate rooms, the separate beds. I slept within an arm's length of you for months, and now I'm expected to do without that?" His lips hinted at a small smile though his eyes remained red-rimmed.

"Well, I am across the hall from your parents. They might wonder when they don't hear me come downstairs."

"They're awake?"

"I think so..." She said quietly. Ron nodded and understood.

"Well, then, let's go to your room," he whispered. He flashed a small grin that quickly faded. "Ginny."

Hermione hesitated. "I...I don't think she's there."

"Did she come up with you?"

"No, she...came up earlier."

"Up here? What for...?"

Hermione watched his face change.

"Ron," she whispered pleadingly, "Please, don't be upset at Harry-!"

"I'm not!" he said quickly, "I'm not. You'd just think, I don't know, he might ask before..." His voice trailed off and he smiled teasingly. "Slick git."

"If I recall correctly," Hermione began, smirking, "you never asked Harry about _this_." She gestured to the way they were sitting. "I reckon he's having the same reaction."

"The same reaction? We're his best friends! And it's not like he's..."

Hermione gave him a knowing look.

"Well, I reckon he is your brother, isn't he?" Ron sighed. "I guess we're even, then."

"There is another problem with my room," Hermione sighed. "To hear two pairs of footsteps going down the stairs? That's not much better than me staying up here."

With Hermione still in his lap, Ron swung his legs over the bed. "Hold on to me," he mumbled.

Before Hermione could ask him why, Ron stood up. Her legs locked around his hips while one arm grabbed tight around his shoulder and the other hand wrinkled his shirt. Both of Ron's arms had been coiled firmly around her body before he had even gotten up.

"There we go." He smiled. "Problem solved."

"You're mental." Hermione whispered.

At this, he grinned, and held her closer. One arm left her back to reach towards his bedside table. There, he closed his fingers around his wand.

"Do you sleep with yours?"

Hermione's eyes were bright and blinking, looking up at him in the dark.

"Yes," he said, and his arms resumed their position around her body, though one now held his wand.

Hermione looked down at her hip. The handle of her wand was visible from the waistband of her pajama shorts.

"Me too," she said.

"Don't worry about it tonight," said Ron, and he began to walk them out of his bedroom and into the dim hallway.

Hermione locked both arms around his neck and nuzzled her head into the place beneath his chin. "Why not?"

"Because," he said, taking the first step of the staircase. He pressed his lips to the top of her head and held her close in his arms, speaking in such a quiet tone that it was nearly mute. "You're safe with me."

Harry felt a soft touch to his arm. "Come on, Harry."

Half-concealed by his bedroom door, he let his eyes linger on his best mates for a bit longer. He heard Hermione giggle at something Ron said, and there was a whispered exchange of "I love you"'s as Ron carried her down the stairs in the dark.

"Harry."

He turned quickly to see Ginny, her arms crossed over her robe as a breeze blew through the curtains. Her eyes were gentle, understanding.

He came to rest again on the bed again, leaning back on the headboard, their sides pressed together. Harry was wide awake.

"He's still scarred by it."

"I know."

"He'll have the same dream tomorrow night."

"I know."

Of course she knew.

Ginny rubbed her tired eyes. "I reckon they should just sleep in the same room. You know, I know, anyone who's tried to console him after one of those nightmares knows...seeing her is the only thing that can prove to him it's not real." She turned towards Harry. "Do you think it'll ever stop?"

Harry shook his head solemnly. "It's worse than a nightmare, it's a memory. It actually happened."

Ginny sighed, picking at the hem of the bed sheet. "Damn. All of this must make spiders look like Pygmy Puffs to him."

Harry gave her a small smile that quickly faded. "I don't think spiders have been his greatest fear for some time."

"You know that?"

"Do I know it? I..." His hand covered his mouth. "When we cleaned out your house, after the Battle-haven't you seen his Boggart?"

"No, not since..." Harry could see the thoughtful creases of her forehead smooth out as she realized. "It's her, isn't it?"

"Yes. It's her dead body."

Ginny fingers went still. "How long has he known?"

"He told me he saw it at Hogwarts, in the middle of the Battle. Tripped over an old chest in the Room of Requirement and it came out from underneath. He had just enough time for it to sink in when Hermione came out in front of him and expelled it. She had heard him scream."

"And you've seen it?"

"Two weeks after Hogwarts, while we were fixing up this place...I found him upstairs, in this room, actually." Harry lifted his finger to a piece of furniture. "It was by the wardrobe, just there. And he was sitting next to it, screaming like hell, and she looked so real I believed it for a moment. I got rid of it as quickly as I could."

Ginny settled onto her pillow in a moment of silence.

"I'm really happy, that he has her," she said quietly.

"Me, too. If she'd gone..." Harry ran a hand through his hair.

Ginny propped herself up on her elbows. "And, I'm also happy-" she pressed her lips to his skin, right below his shoulder "-to have you."

Harry smiled fully this time. He laced his fingers through hers, brought them to his lips and kissed the back of her hand as she settled down to sleep. He closed his eyes, feeling at peace, knowing that he and and his two best friends upstairs would make it through another night.


End file.
